


Happy/Sad Memories

by JosephineStone



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-09-23
Packaged: 2018-02-18 13:48:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2350601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JosephineStone/pseuds/JosephineStone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During 8th year, Neville becomes friends with Draco and Pansy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy/Sad Memories

**Author's Note:**

> **Beta:** [](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/profile)[**digthewriter**](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Prompt** : Neville has loved Pansy since their first year of school. After the rebelling during his seventh year, he's finally gathers enough self esteem to approach her.  
>  **Author Notes** : Thank you, [](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://digthewriter.livejournal.com/)**digthewriter** , for being so patient with me!

When Neville first suggested that Malfoy and he could help each other with their weaker subjects, he hadn’t been aware how strong of a student Malfoy was in just about every subject. He thought he could help Malfoy with his Herbology, as it was Neville’s only good subject he shared with Malfoy; Malfoy knew as much about plants as Neville did. Except without the enthusiasm for the subject.

‘It’s essential to know your ingredients for Potions,’ was all he’d said in the matter. The area Malfoy needed the most help with was Defence Against the Dark Arts; a class Neville was no longer taking, and he wasn’t even sure that Malfoy needed. He couldn’t imagine Malfoy as an Auror, though an Unspeakable might fit him. The Ministry would never hire him for either. They met in the library after their Herbology class and checked each other’s work when they finished that week’s assignment.

Neville looked up to see Pansy Parkinson searching a nearby bookcase for something. She’d grown her hair out during the war. It was held in a messy bun near the top of her head, but it was so loose that multiple strands fell to her shoulders and down the back of her neck. Next to him, Draco stopped writing, but didn’t glance in her direction. Pansy’s robes were as new as ever, the perfect fit for her body, yet she seemed smaller than Neville had ever seen her. She eventually found the book she was looking for and turned toward them. Walking past them, her dead eyes travelled over Malfoy’s hunch form, but she made no other acknowledgement of her once best friend or Neville.

Being overlooked was standard for Neville, until the fall of Voldemort. Everyone had always overlooked him and Pansy had been no different. But then, after the Battle at Hogwarts, everyone noticed him. Pansy was the rare exception. This just made him admire her more.

With Pansy out of sight, Neville turned back to his work. Malfoy flicked a quill at him and Neville looked up to see him smirking at him. It’d been years since he’d seen that look on Malfoy’s face.

‘What?’

‘You fancy her.’

Neville had nothing to say to that, there was no denying it, so he shrugged and reread the last paragraph he’d written.

‘Have you ever talked to her?’

Neville didn’t even bother to look up; Malfoy knew he never had.

‘You should talk to her.’

‘She’s not interested in me; she hates me. She used to call me a—’ So had Malfoy.

‘Pansy is interested in power, Longbottom, and I don’t know how you haven’t noticed this yet, but you now have a lot of it. People look up to you, and Pansy wants the attention of people others look up to.’

‘I know...that more people notice me now. I’m not thick. But she _isn’t_ one of them.’

‘Then make her one of them. Make her notice you. Merlin, no wonder you’ve never had a girlfriend. You can’t just wait around for someone to realise you’re interested in them. You have to tell them.’

‘What if she rejects me...what if she is still...in love you?’

‘First, Pansy was never in love with me. Where do people get these ideas? Second, then at least you'd know.’

That was the point. The moment Neville asked he’d know. All hope would be lost, and he’d lived on that hope for so long.

‘The Yule Ball.’

‘What?’

‘You took her to the Yule Ball.’

‘Were you in love with the girl you took to the Yule Ball? Was she in love with you?’

‘She’s one of my best friends.’ Neville rolled his eyes at himself. The Yule Ball started his friendship with Ginny, but Draco and Pansy had been friends since first year.

‘Pansy is the kind of girl that thinks no one wants her, because no one ever asks her. We didn’t “go together” we both went alone at the same time and danced together, because no one asked her and I wasn’t going to let her sit in the common room and pout all night about being left out.’

#

Neville sat in the Great Hall surround by people, smiling though they were taking his attention away from what he’d rather be thinking about. Pansy two tables away sitting alone. The Slytherin table was sparse and all the students there for their eighth year were scattered in between groups of students from younger years. Daphne Greengrass sat with her younger sister’s group. Neville had never known she had a sister, until he’d asked Draco why Daphne and Pansy never sat with each other.

‘Queenie sits with her sister Astoria and she and Pansy have never got on well.’

That was as close as Neville ever got to asking what he really wanted to know. What happened to their group? Why did Pansy sit as far away from Malfoy as possible? Why do none of them sit together? Every meal time these questions filtered through his mind again. Was it simply the war? Had it being going on for a while and the war distracted him from it?

When Pansy rose, Neville broke off the conversation he’d been having with Seamus, Ginny, and Dean about what Harry and Ron were up to in Auror training. They’d learned within the first week back not to bother Hermione on the subject. She thought it was irresponsible of the Ministry to accept so many people who had yet to finish their NEWTs. But they needed people to help get everything cleaned up after the war; they’d invited Neville, but he had no interest in being an Auror.

He followed her down the hall still not sure what he wanted to say to her. After she turned a corner and he followed a moment later, he realised how creepy it was to simply follow her without her knowledge. If she’d realised he was there it would be even worse, so he quickened his pace and before he knew he was calling her name.

A moment later he was standing in front of her, shuffling his feet while she she looked him up and down in confusion. ‘Hi,’ he said.

‘Hi.’

‘I was wondering...’

‘Yes?’

‘Um, you know I’m studying with Malfoy, and I was wondering if you’d want to study with me.’

Her eyes widened as Neville cursed himself—that was not what he wanted to ask her. She shifted the bag on her shoulder and looked around the hallway before she looked back up at him.

‘Why?’

‘Why?’ Neville choked. 'Why what?'

‘Why are you studying with Draco? Why would you want to study with me? Are you having a lot of trouble keeping up? This is a repeat year.’

‘No, I—Merlin, I’m horrible at this. I just...wanted to spend time with you.’

‘Time with me? What is this some sort of Slytherin outreach program?’

‘No! I fancy you—I have for years!’

‘You fancied me for years...did Draco put you up to this?’

‘No, I mean—he did say that if I fancied you I should talk to you, but he certainly didn’t put me up to fancying you. I’m not sure that is even a thing someone can do. Even if it was he couldn’t have possibly caused it for years. Wait, does that mean that you’re interested?’

Pansy held back a laugh, but Neville saw the smile fighting to spread across her face. ‘You’re cute when you’re nervous, you know?’

‘No, I’ve no idea what I look like when I’m nervous.’

She snorted. ‘Okay, so since you don’t really need anymore help with your studies, what kind of time is it you’d like to spend with me?’

‘Um.’ Neville felt trapped. He never did many group activities. Most of what he did with his friends was study, or simply listen to them talk. He sometimes took turns with Ginny and Luna playing Exploding Snap, but it felt like a silly thing to offer. ‘Anything. What things to you like to do?’

‘Well.’ She took a moment to think about it. ‘I used to enjoy gossiping with my friends, but we’ve all sort of abandoned each other.’

‘What happened?’ Neville’s stomach jumped. He danced around the question while studying with Malfoy for months afraid it would damage their fragile bond and there he butting it’s head into the first real conversation he'd had with Pansy.

She smirked and took a step toward him. ‘I’d never have pegged you for a gossip.’

‘If you don’t want—’

‘It’s fine. Draco lost interest in gossip the last couple of years and one day he called me a lot of not so nice things and I called him a lot of not so nice things and we haven’t spoken since.’ She turned back the way she was going and they both slowly began to walk down the hall. ‘The rest is more complicated.’

‘I’ve got plenty of time.’

‘Hm, interestingly enough, so do I.’

#

‘If you smile got any wider,’ Malfoy said, ‘I’d fear you had brain damage. I take it she didn’t say “no” then.’ Before Neville could ask how he knew, Malfoy added, ‘I saw you follow her out after supper yesterday. So?’

‘We talked.’

‘And?’

‘Walked.’

Malfoy rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

‘We just talked. We’re not dating and we didn’t plan on meeting up again, but I don’t think she is against the idea—she asked why we were studying together.’

‘What did you tell her?’

‘I didn’t.’ Neville paused, taking a breath. ‘Why did you agree to this when you obviously didn’t need help with anything?’

‘Why did you ask when you weren’t behind nor failing any of your classes?’

‘I—’

‘Besides, you have helped me some. I’m not used to studying alone and I like having someone to bounce theories off of. Even if all you say is "that makes sense" most of the time.’

Neville nodded. He was used to studying alone and even when he sat with Luna and Ginny, they never talked about their classes as much as the people around them. Studying with Malfoy was different and his grades _had_ improved in all of his classes.

‘I wanted to do better than average. I didn’t want to just pass. I know I won’t need all the NEWT’s I’m going for to be a Herbologist and I know that is what I want to be, but I wanted to prove that I could have been anything and that I choose this. It’s not that it was my only option.’

Malfoy tapped the tip of his quill against his lips as he watched Neville’s face. ‘I wanted you to help me with Defence Against the Dark Arts.’

‘I’m not taking—’

‘Yes, I know, but you were in Dumbledore’s Army. I know you all learned Defensive spells there. I don’t have a problem with the theory it’s the practical. I can’t do a lot of the spells.’

Neville stopped himself from saying they were easy. He was better at the theory in most his classes as well, and if it hadn’t been for Harry he’d be just as lost as Malfoy. He nodded instead and thought about where a good place would be to practice when Malfoy said:

‘I’ve a room signed out to me every Thursday at one where I practice, but I could get the time changed—’

‘I can meet you there. I’m free then.’

For a reason he couldn’t fathom he expected Malfoy to smile, but his expression went blank and he gave a curt nod instead. Neville had to hold back a laugh it was so out of place yet such a Malfoy thing to do. He’d often forget who Malfoy was in their study sessions. Little things like that came out of him every so often and Neville would remember. That was the first time it hadn’t angered him, though.

Lost in his thoughts he didn’t notice the chair pull out on the other side of the table, until Malfoy spilled his ink. Pansy held Malfoy’s gaze, but neither of them spoke as she pulled out her Charms book and settled in to study. Neville knew he was grinning like a fool—he hadn’t expected to see Pansy again so soon. As he pulled his book closer to him to give her more space he glance at Malfoy, who returned to his plant cataloguing trying to hide his own smile.

#

Later when he entered Gryffindor tower, he ran into Hermione on her way out.

‘Sorry, sorry.’

‘It’s all right, Neville, I’m fine.’ She gave him an odd look. ‘I haven’t seen much of you around these parts.’

‘Nor you.’

‘Well, if I were you, I’d run in the opposite direction. Ginny is in a mood that even Luna hasn’t been able to calm down.’

‘Ah, Harry hasn’t written yet then, I take it.’ After she nodded he asked, ‘Have you?’

‘A little,’ Hermione said with a shrug. ‘Sometimes he’ll send a small note in with a letter Ron’s written to me.’ Her eyes widened and then she added, ‘Please, don’t tell Ginny, she’s been asking to read my letters thinking I’m keeping things from her; she won’t believe me when I tell her she really doesn’t want to read my letters.’

Neville laughed. ‘I don’t want to know.’

‘They’re just busy with training and they never say much about that. They mostly ask how everyone here is doing and I tell them I’m too busy studying to notice.’ She groaned. ‘I let it slip that you and Malfoy are studying together to Ron, and he must have told Harry; I swear it’s sixth year all over again except transcribed.’

‘He thinks Malfoy’s plotting something evil—tell him I’m the one who approached Malfoy.’

‘I did.’ She closed her eyes and shook her head. ‘It’s fine, nothing to worry about, just—’

‘You worry about him; it’s understandable.’ Neville bumped her arm with his. ‘Being a little paranoid after everything he’s been through is understandable as well. Be glad he is there and busy, instead of here and slowly going insane.’

‘I’m worried he’s there and slowly going insane worrying about what is going on here.’ She took a deep breath and exhaled. ‘Thanks, I needed this.’

‘No problem—I’m here if you need to talk.’ She walked off and the portrait flung opened hitting Neville’s nose.

‘Oh,’ Ginny said, ‘What are you doing just standing here?’

‘I was on my way in.’ He rubbed his nose as he waited for the pain to subside. ‘I’m fine, thanks for asking.’

‘Have you seen Hermione?’

‘No, why?’ Hermione hadn’t asked him to lie about talking to her, but he didn’t see the conversation going a good direction if he told the truth.

‘I just wanted to ask her something—where have you been?’

‘I was just studying with Draco and Pansy.’

The look on Ginny’s face made him realise what he’d just said, but he didn’t take it back. It was time he stopped thinking of him based on his family name.

‘Oh, _Draco_ is it now? Draco _and_ Pansy. Hmmm...this is an interesting development. What have you learned, while studying with Draco and Pansy.’

His was a prick for it; he knew it was a prick move, but he asked, ‘Have you heard from Harry yet?’ And thanked Merlin, she hadn’t hexed him afterward.

Ginny looked down the hall for Hermione again and said, ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to Hermione about; I know she is keeping something from me. Why would he write to her and not to me? I’m his girl—his friend, too.’

‘Has Ron written?’

‘As though he’d have time after the books he writes to Hermione; don’t ever become like my brother, Neville. It’s pathetic. I read one of them: ten pages on why he misses her hair.’ Ginny looked as deflated as Pansy had the day he’d first seen her in the library. Though, Ginny’s light brown eyes were angry. She’d been left behind again; he knew that was how she felt. Even with so many people from their year joining hers, the person she wanted to be with had grown up and moved on.

‘I told him, I had never given up on him, and he seemed happy about that, you know?’

Neville knew. He’d heard all about it the week after Harry broke up with her. Then over and over again this year when people outside their group asked about Harry, because of course she should know, and she pretended she did.

‘We broke up, because of Voldemort; I was so calm about it. Now there is no Voldemort, and yet. I just don’t understand.’

Maybe it was because he’d finally took the first step in having a relationship of his own. Maybe because he’d grown tired of biting his tongue all these years. Or because he was used to people—other people not Ginny—listening to him as though he was someone to listen to, someone who knew what they were talking about. But subtle hints weren’t working with Ginny, so he stepped away from the door to Gryffindor Tower and began to walk beside letting all his thoughts out.

‘Remember how you told me, you understood that he couldn’t rest until Voldemort was gone. That he might die and he wanted to distance himself from you to keep you from being more hurt by it, from getting caught in the middle? Has it ever occurred to you that there will always be another “Voldemort”?

‘Not another Dark Wizard who wants to kill him and anyone close to him, but another thing he has to do before he can settle down and just concentrate on you? He didn’t even take a this year to relax after the war. He rushed off to train so that he could help track down the rest of the Death Eaters as quickly as possible.

‘There will always be another Death Eater they haven’t caught. Another bad guy killing people, possibly targeting Aurors’ families, that he needs to find, to stop, to save people.’

‘I’ve thought that, but...what are you saying? I should give up?’

‘I can think of two people who are heartbroken over losing you, when they probably never had you to begin with; I know about six people who enjoy spending time with you over just about anybody else; why are you waiting around from someone who ignored you for years, gave you one month of attention and then told you he was too busy for you?

‘I’m glad you were here risking your life with me, instead of out there risking your life with them; but—’

‘You are telling me to give up.’

‘I’m telling you to live. Just go do the things you like to do and don’t worry about whether he ever writes you back. If this war has taught us anything, it is that life is too short. Don’t waste it being unhappy.’ Or pining over a girl that might just say “yes”, Neville thought.

‘I can’t. I’ll never stop waiting. I can’t.’ The anger in her eyes was replaced with tears that refused to fall. She threw her hands in the air and then wiped her eyes. ‘This is what happens when I hold it in,’ she said in disgust with herself. Neville wrapped his arms around her and pulled her to his chest. ‘I’m sorry, I must be driving everyone insane; no wonder Hermione has been avoiding me.’

‘It’s okay, I’m sure they understand.’

Ginny pulled back and spelled her face dry. ‘I need to go find Hermione; I need to apologise to her.’ She ran to the stairs and Neville turn back toward the tower. Pansy stood down the hall with her arms crossed and a smirk on her face.

‘You should start charging.’

‘For what?’

‘Letting all the girls vent out their problems and giving advice, of course. Do you let all the girls cry on your—chest.’

‘Only the short ones.’ Neville shrugged shuffling his feet toward her. ‘It’s a friend’s job to listen to problems; I just happen to have a lot of friends who are girls.’

‘Hm, why is that?’ Pansy stepped toward him.

‘There are a lot of theories, but I happen to know it’s because I am bloody awful at Quidditch. While all the boys were talking about Quidditch, I was talking with the girls.’

Pansy gave him a skeptical look, stepping closer. ‘Weasley is on the Quidditch team.’

‘Not until her fifth year and we became friends during her third.’ Neville took the last step looking down at Pansy just a breath away from her. ‘Were you looking for me? Did you need a chest to cry on?’

‘Always.’ She laughed. ‘But, I just wanted to see you. You didn’t tell me if, or when, you’d like to see me again.’

‘I’d always like to see you. I figured we’d run into each other.’

Pansy nodded. ‘Life’s been shit to all of us recently.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Tell me about you.’

Caught off guard, Neville stepped back. ‘What about me?’

‘Anything. Tell me about your life. Your problems; you’ve listened to enough of mine.’

‘I’m more of a listener, not much of a talker.’

Her face fell as Neville back away more. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean to push.’

‘No, it’s fine. You’re fine.’ Why was it so hard to breathe? ‘It’s getting close to supper; let me put my bag away and I’ll walk you down?’

#

Neville started small with Draco’s on their first day practicing Defence. One of Draco’s problems was he tried to do complicated spells without mastering the easier ones. He’d write off something as impossible for him and then try something that built off it.

‘The blocks are easy, in fact all of the duelling spells you have down.’

‘I’d never have survived Slytherin without them. The older students always tested us on them, locking us out of our dorm rooms throwing hexes at us on our way down the stairs.’

‘I’d have never survived.’

Draco laughed.

‘It’s the ones used against creatures you seem to have the most trouble with. Didn’t you use _Riddikulus_ in third year?’

‘I answered a question, so I didn’t have to.’

‘Do you know what it’ll turn into?’

‘I’d rather not—’

Neville sighed, realising his problem right away. ‘Draco, facing your fears is pretty much all Defence is about. If you can’t face one of your fears, then—’

‘It’s not about facing one of my fears, it’s about facing my greatest fear. This isn’t third year anymore... _Neville_...Professor Snape glaring down at me isn’t going to be what I face. I’m not afraid of snakes or spiders and before you jump to conclusions it isn’t Voldemort either.’

Neville nodded, his wouldn’t be Snape glaring down at him anymore either. There wasn’t a Boggart around, but Neville’s spine crawled at the idea of meeting one again. What would it be this time? Watching the life drain out of someone? In what way could that ever be funny? It couldn’t.

‘Lupin thought it was safe for the same reason, what could third years possibly have to fear?’ Draco stared at the ground as though remembering. ‘He never thought for a second that any of us had real things to fear. A bunch of witches and wizards in a top rated boarding school? What problems could we possibly have? What could we possibly have to fear?’

Neville flipped through the Defence book he brought with him. Most of the spells used against magical creatures had an extra component, think of a happy memory or make the situation funny to let go of the fear that is holding you back. Perhaps that was Draco’s problem.

‘How about we start with something in the same class, but simpler: _Avis_?’

Draco came to stand next Neville and read over his shoulder. Neville felt him tense; to conjure the birds you needed to think of a happy memory. It didn’t have to be a strong one, but from the way Draco stiffly nodded before he backed up to try it, Neville knew it gave him trouble. Then he watched it give him trouble. His wand movement was perfect; his wand movement was always perfect.

‘What are you thinking about?’

Draco glared at him.

‘I mean, um...’ Neville sighed and rubbed his head trying to remember how Harry dealt with this during the DA. ‘Harry is better at this...I don’t know what to say.’

‘I’m sure Potter had plenty of happy memories to choose from.’ Draco relaxed at Neville’s confused look. ‘What about you? I’d rather know how you come up with happy memories to use.’

Neville bit his lip and looked away. His memories weren’t memories, so much as happy dreams. They might have been becoming friendly, but Neville wasn’t ready to share something like that with Draco yet.

After a moment of silence, Draco said, ‘Every happy memory I choose ends up reminding me of something that makes me angry, and I lose it. I try to get it back, but what happened next won’t leave my mind.’

‘So change it.’

‘I can’t just change it.’

‘Yes, you can. Change the memory. Whatever happens next, change it to what you wanted to happen. It doesn’t have to be a real memory, though the spells work better when it is; it just has to make you happy. That’s the power behind these spells, it’s the whole point of them. _It’s fighting sadness with happiness_ —I recall you writing that in a recent essay.’

Draco rolled his eyes, but tried the spell again. The first bird was a bit brighter that time, before they all began to fade away. Each time time he cast they were a little brighter and lasted a bit longer, but Draco still huffed in frustration.

‘Stop.’

Draco did, but he didn’t look up.

‘Take a deep breath and think about the memory as you want it to be; don’t try to decide it after you’ve started the spell. Pick it and think only of that. You don’t have to think about the wand movement; you have that down.’

With his eyes closed, Draco took more than one deep breath, once he opened them he cast the spell as though without out effort. All the birds were a bright green then, and they held their glow as flew about the room. One landed on Neville’s shoulder, as Draco watched a couple peck at the ground.

‘Fantastic.’

‘They’re just birds,’ Draco said.

‘Ah, yeah, but birds you couldn’t conjure a few minutes ago. It’s progress, but...the rest will go faster now that we know the problem.’

Still watching the birds peck the ground, Draco asked, ‘Do you ever have to have a real memory?’

‘I haven’t yet.’ Which was a good thing, because he didn’t have any that worked. He had friends then and good moments with them, but nothing that compared to having his family whole again. He’d yet to feel anything that competed with the idea of it.

It had never occurred to him before that it was the same for Draco Malfoy.

#

‘I don’t want to scare you away with my unhappy stories,’ Neville told her.

Pansy’s hair danced around her face as the breeze turn into a wind. Her hair looked darker and her skin paler outside. Though the sun was hidden by the clouds which made everything a more bluish hue. Unlike Draco she only wore black when in her school uniform. Her robes wore a warm red that covered a brown pullover. Her scarf a mix of colours of various shades of browns, reds, greys and thin lines of blue.

‘We all have unhappy stories,’ she said watching him, waiting for him to tell her something real. When he didn’t offer anything she sighed and turned to walk off the bridge. He followed, keeping his pace next to hers. ‘D’you want to hear an unhappy story? Draco _loves_ this one, because as many lonely, only children, he likes to be reminded how lucky his is not to have better versions of himself as competition. I have a younger and an older sister, did you know that?’

Neville shook his head. He’d never seen Pansy talking to anyone except outside their own year.

‘My older sister was the mistake that caused my parents to have to marry, and she’s spent her entire life making it up to them. She was a Ravenclaw and at the top of her class. A Prefect, a Chaser, a singer, a dancer, she could play the piano beautifully and never gave my parents anything to complain about. My younger sister is a Hufflepuff, if you can believe it. She’s in her fifth year now. I’d have died, but none of us were really surprised. She could make friends with a rock.

‘I’ve never been extraordinary in any way. I don’t make friends easily like Beth and I’m not perfect like Ana. But, I am the Slytherin.’ She took a breath and her tone became lower, softer. ‘When Ana got full marks, our parents looked at it as expected. She was the Ravenclaw, of course she had perfect grades. They’d talk about how I knew that friendships were just as important as grades and how I was making friends with the Malfoy boy—an excellent prospect in marriage. In case you didn’t catch the sarcasm earlier—Draco actually hates this story.

‘She made the Quidditch team they criticised her for being too masculine and expressed fears that she might gain too much muscle and be perceived as fat. They’d point out my new haircut or how thin I looked in my new robes. If I succeeded in anything, they threw it in her face. When I was young and want nothing more than my parents to love me, these moments felt like accomplishments. But it didn’t take me long to see, that they only praised me to tear her down. At first, I tried to do more, be more of a perfect daughter and only let them know about it when she wasn’t around. Then I tried to be more like Ana—if we were exactly the same then they’d have nothing left to compare.

‘But then she made Prefect...and they pointed out I was the Slytherin.

Neville swallowed. He didn’t know what to say, so he said nothing. He watched her eyes water at the memories and they reminded him of his mother’s. The way they would fill with tears but not spill over. He knew his parents would have been great parents. He was sure her parents had good moments as well. He could think of many times his family had shown him disappointment for not measuring up. They acknowledged his success—they’d been thrilled when he earned house points. Yes, they acknowledged his successes.

‘Can you play an instrument?’ Neville asked.

‘I used to play the piano with my sister, but I was never as good as her.’

‘You don’t anymore?’

‘Not since—’ Pansy knocked her elbow against Neville’s arm and stopped walking. ‘She killed herself when I was thirteen, Neville. That was the point of the story. I’m sorry, I’m really no good at telling stories. I thought it’d be safe, because I thought it was known. That everyone knew already. It wasn’t supposed to be the hard part to tell you.’

‘You don’t have to tell me anything, if you don’t want to.’

Pansy smiled. ‘But I do want to. You’re the first new person in my life, everyone else has simply always been there. I don’t have to tell Draco about Ana or my parents. I get a look and he says what happened now. He’s been there; he knows it all. I don’t have to tell them like I need to tell you—I’ll always feel guilty over it—because they already know.

‘These are important parts of me. Things that need to be understood. I don’t take compliments well, so don’t tell me that I’m beautiful it’s bad enough that I can tell you’re thinking it. The hardest part of losing all my friends as been losing that understanding. I’ll be in a mood because of something that would be completely obvious to Draco, but everyone around me looks at me like I’m being the worst bitch imaginable—’

Neville wrapped his arms around her and stopped talking. After moment she snorted, and said, ‘You aren’t much of a talker—I get it. But you aren’t going to scare me away with your sad stories.’

‘I think my sad stories involve more of...a field trip.’ Neville released her and took a step back. At her confused look he added, ‘I had a pretty happy childhood, at least, an average one. The hardest part was visiting my parents, which my grandmother made me even when I really didn’t want to. This is something I’d always thought was known, until recently when Draco let me know otherwise. A war just ended, so it’s natural that everyone wants to talk about the dead. Pay tribute to them, remember them, but...

‘My parents are alive.’

Pansy’s eyes slightly widened and she covered her mouth with her hand.

‘I don’t talk about them...and I’m not sure I’m ready to.’

She dropped her hand and he held his out to her, she took it and they continued their walk to Hogsmeade. Neville could see it then, coming to view in the distance, and the people running about shopping. The closer they came the more students passed them either arriving or leaving. Before they hit the thick of it, Pansy pulled on his hand and they stopped once more. She leaned up on her toes and pulled him down at his neck to kiss him.

They both kept their eyes open, creating a happy memory.


End file.
